


Hesperides

by ilandalandan



Category: ENHYPEN (Band), I-LAND (Korea TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels, Angst, Drama, Fallen Angels, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mental Health Issues, References to Depression, Religious Content, Romance, Unhealthy Relationships, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:33:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29194617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilandalandan/pseuds/ilandalandan
Summary: The excruciating rip of bone and flesh as he pulled at his wings with a scream, and the sickening smell of his feathers as they burned to ashes later on, are clear in his head. But clearer still is the smiling face of a human boy named Sunghoon who asked if he could keep him, to which the answer had been yes.Jay intends to keep that promise.
Relationships: Kim Sunoo/Lee Heeseung, Park Jongseong | Jay/Park Sunghoon
Comments: 6
Kudos: 26





	1. Hoc est corpus meum

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Reverse](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27223858) by [strata](https://archiveofourown.org/users/strata/pseuds/strata). 



> **The concept of “falling” from[strata’s](https://archiveofourown.org/users/strata/pseuds/strata) [_Semper Fidelis_](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1989055) series helped me come up with the story in this fic. Thank you for the inspiration.**

He remembers it as if it happened just a second ago, and with amazing clarity. In fact, if he closes his eyes, he can still feel the stinging cold on his flushed cheeks, recall the soft and kind voice that accompanied a warm bread and even warmer hands. When Man says he remembers things like this, it’s a lie. But when an Angel does, it’s true: like pearls of light, they keep memories in their heads to be replayed and looked at from every angle later, a fresh and crisp vision so realistic that watching it alone is already akin to reliving the very moment all over again.

“Hey. You want some bread?”

Disguised as a five-year-old boy, Jay pauses from his aimless walking,  _ back and forth, back and forth _ on the edge of his chosen sidewalk. He doesn’t know where the rest of his group is, lost them earlier and his participation in this Earthly mission altogether, and has since decided to stay put to be more easily found later. That had been over two hours ago by Man’s measure of time, and no one has bothered him until now. 

The question is obviously directed towards him seeing as there are no others within hearing distance. Hands outstretched on either side for balance and with his wings hidden where he pretends to “play,” Jay lets his neck turn a little bit behind him as far as it is able without moving the rest of his body.

Blinking rapidly, he squeaks. “Me?”

His question is filled with wonder, but above all, confusion. He hasn’t been expecting anyone to approach him, as this disguise had been deliberate to ward off people except the truly kind hearted. The Angels know there are very few of them left. Jay had taken the role of the homeless today, clothes in tatters: worn shirts and frayed pants in layers that do nothing to ward off the chill, and it had served its purpose because everyone left him alone, letting the poor lad play under the snow.

But not this one. 

At first it’s just a hood outlined by faux-fur, the speaker’s face hidden in shadow. But then, soon enough the furry covering is pushed back and, for all the beauty that Jay has seen in the millennia he has lived, he has never seen this type, one that not only resonated from deep within but outwardly too. He’s struck speechless, body frozen as he is approached by the most beautifully smiling creature he has encountered in all of his long life. 

“Yeah, you. Hi. This is fresh from the bakery—you want to share it with me?”

It’s a funny shaped bread, a bit like the moon when it’s not either half or full. Jay glances down at it only briefly, disinterested, all eyes for this Human instead—the darkness of his hair and those eyes, a contrast to the bright orange scarf wrapped around his neck. Jay can’t breathe as he takes it all in, not that it’s a necessity for him to breathe at all, but this is the first time he’s needed so much air, only to find it lacking. Before he can stop himself, Jay finds himself asking: 

“Are you and Angel?”

It’s the only plausible explanation. Such genuine kindness and the unwavering, unconditional warmth, Jay has never met a Human who exudes such things unless they’re an Angel in disguise. And yet, as a hand takes his to tug him under the safety of a waiting shed with a laugh, as one hand becomes two to rub warmth against his icy palms, he realizes he’s mistaken. This person is flesh,  _ Man.  _ It makes everything unreal and yet not so, and Jay knows if he hadn’t been disguised himself, if his wings hadn’t been hidden and were visible, then he would’ve wrapped it around this wonderful Human.

“I’m not an Angel, but I can be for you!”

The reply to him is in singsong, imparting more than just physical warmth with those words. Jay wants to melt with it, sink into this Human’s arms if he will allow it, but he holds back. Instead, he simply stares like a fool witnessing how the beasts of the world came to be for the first time at the Lord’s mighty bidding. He does get the next best thing though, those hands leaving him momentarily to become palms that cradle and squish his cheeks. Jay’s wonder becomes confusion again as he blinks, lashes trembling with want to be touched some more by this fascinating creature.

_ He’s so warm.  _

“But you’re so cute, so you have to be my Angel instead. Can I keep you?”

And Jay’s heart is beating so painfully fast  _ for the first time _ that it makes him dizzy, makes him answer before thinking as he nods his head, lifting a hand to touch the pretty face before him to feel the delicate jaw and the tender skin. And when he answers, it’s a promise that this Human doesn’t even know Jay’s making—one that’s unbreakable and everlasting.

“Yes. I’m yours to keep.”

Legs swinging as he sits on a too tall bench, hands clasping a bigger one than his, Jay accompanies Park Sunghoon as he waits for his bus in silence, each of them with a piece of freshly baked croissant. 

_ Am I really your Angel, or are you mine? _

  
  
  
  
  


There are numerous gardens and forests in Heaven, but there’s one that Jay frequents the most. In his idle time, he escapes to this place and into a hidden glade, one dotted with little pools. It’s not water however, but windows: a view of the World below and the Humans who live in it, a means to spy on what Jay should not even care about, at least not with this intensity.

In Man’s time, it’s already been a year since Jay first met Park Sunghoon who hasn’t changed one bit. He remains as kind as he had been that wintry day, the type of person with an ever-present smile that seems to be reserved for everyone but himself.

Cushioned by grass and in his truest form, Jay is on his stomach with his arms on the soft ground and his hands in fists, wings shuddering in distress as it flaps restlessly behind him. It’s one of those days again, and he longs to fly down, plummet back to Earth and in Sunghoon’s arms, unable to understand why he’s always unhappy. Jay wants nothing more than to know how he can help take this unhappiness away because it doesn’t make sense: when alone in his little apartment after a day of taking care of other people and sharing his warmth with them, why does Sunghoon go home and look morose, sometimes crying in the shower, often watching the sky longingly from the perch by his window?

It doesn’t take long though: Jay starts noticing a pattern, how Sunghoon’s eyes linger on people in pairs, two persons locked in some kind of intimacy like hand-holding, an embrace, or on occasion, a meaningful kiss.  _ He’s lonely,  _ Jay realizes. 

_ Sunghoon is lonely.  _

It’s with this realization that Jay, warrior of Heaven and among the highest-ranked of the Powers(1), starts pondering on a possibility he has never had to before.

The Fall.

  
  
  
  
  


Battles are more commonplace than even the holiest of Man think. It’s the reason why there are calamities and natural disasters: thunderstorms and earthquakes, tsunamis and floods, to name a few. It’s not true that Angels have no ability to hate. They can and will when faced with the very perversion of themselves, those who’ve turned and chosen Hell. Put the mightiest of Heaven against their Fallen counterparts who are just as powerful and all in one place, and it’s not surprising why the Earth trembles and shakes. 

Jay however, isn’t here to win an endless war for the first time since he came to be.

“How did you Fall?”

The edge of his sword rests precariously against the delicate throat of the enemy by his feet, the one he’d dragged away from battle. They’re hidden near the mouth of a cave, a majestic vision worthy of being put on canvas, and that’s because although cast out with no way to ever return to Heaven, Devils are not less magnificent despite their lack of wings.

Jay’s question gets a mocking laugh in reply, the Devil kneeling before him gazing back with knowing eyes.

“Are you sure you can handle it, slave of God?”

Jay draws blood, sword digging against flesh immortal threateningly as a foretaste of what’s to come. Should he slash this Devil’s throat, it won’t kill him, but the wound will hurt immensely, not to mention take a long time to heal, and it’ll be a major inconvenience. Face devoid of emotion, he simply repeats his question.

“How did you Fall?”

The Devil laughs again, unbothered as he keeps his sharp eyes trained on Jay’s face. 

“I’m going to tell you," he begins with a sneer, tilting his head back just the slightest and with his tongue out, tracing it against the edge of a waiting blade. Jay doesn’t acknowledge all the blood even as it drips from those sneering lips and dribbles down a stubbled chin. “But first, I have to know the reason why you want to Fall.”

His mistake is answering far too quickly.

“I’m not planning on it.”

The Devil chuckles, crimson bubbling from his mouth like poison.

“Beautiful, filthy liar.”

Telling lies is the least of his sins at this point, but for it to be pointed out to him like this, it makes something in Jay snap. So he digs his sword deeper, penetrating flesh as his face contorts menacingly.

“I won’t ask a third time. Tell me.”

And the Devil does, tells him the hideous details of how exactly to Fall step by excruciating step. By the end of it and, although he has kept a straight face, Jay feels his stomach churning and protesting because he’s going to do this,  _ please don’t do this, _ a part of him says.

“You know the worst part, loyal servant?”

The Devil has sneered the entirety of his speech, the twist of his mouth unchanging and smug even as he ends his monologue with a laugh, turning his head sideways to spit out blood and saliva that curdles the ground.

“They know you’ll be damned for your Choice, but they won’t stop you. Not your brothers-in-arms, not the unfeeling Ophanim(2), and most certainly not your beloved God.”

Jay snarls with the viciousness of a beast, blade glinting against what little light there is in the cavern as he lifts his weapon and brings it down with force. In the aftermath, with his cheek spattered in blood, he turns around and walks away without a glance at the wilting body he leaves behind. 

And when he returns to the battlefield in all his winged glory, Jay kills as many of the demons as he can as if in repentance, murmuring under his breath but all for naught.

_ Deus meus, ex toto corde pænitet me ómnium meórum peccatórum... (3) _

But Jay continues the act of sinning with his every return to the glade, watching over Sunghoon.

  
  
  
  
  


There’s another pattern Jay observes, and this time it’s in regard to the temporary partners that Sunghoon chooses for himself. They’re all male is one important thing to take note of, but aside from gender, he realizes that the few lovers Sunghoon has had are ones that aren’t good for him,  _ bad boys  _ or so they’re called. It takes a while for Jay to understand what it means, having only heard it from Sunghoon himself who has the adorable habit of talking to himself. 

_ “I always like all these guys who won’t do anything to make my life better... what the hell is the matter with me? Is it wrong to hope that they'll change someday, stop fooling around, choose to settle down, because I’m worth changing for? Because I’m worth it? So stupid... maybe I’m really destined to die alone.” _

Suddenly, Jay has a clear goal to work towards because he won’t let such things happen. Sunghoon will  _ not _ be alone. In fact and, if Jay has a say in the matter, Sunghoon will  _ never _ die. They’ll be together for as long as the waking World exists and perhaps even beyond that, a force to be reckoned with when he makes them inseparable.

With this, Jay begins to wonder how different it will really be, without his wings.

  
  
  
  
  


“Welcome back!”

Jay finds himself in the same cave he has been before, to find the Devil he left behind still there as to be expected. He’s healing nicely too, the gash Jay’s blade made from his collarbone down to his chest almost completely closed by now. Face expressionless although he doesn’t quite meet the expectant gaze, Jay only grunts in reply to the ecstatic greeting at first, standing a good distance away with his hands folded behind him. 

The Devil gives him that familiar smug smile. 

“Are you ready to Fall,” he starts, licking his lips in anticipation. “Sweet Angel?”

Jay hesitates only for a few seconds before lifting his head and meeting the shining eyes of what once was an enemy.

“Yes.”

And Jay doesn’t know it yet, but it’s going to be the longest night of his entire life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _ Chapter title  _ **_Hoc est corpus meum_ ** _ meaning “This is my body.”  _ Latin.
> 
> _ (1) In the Celestial Hierarchy which assigns and groups Angels into nine sub-categories that fall under three main categories called Choirs, the  _ **Powers** _ belong to the bottom of the second Choir. They’re known as the elite guard that watches for demonic attacks and is Heaven’s first line of defense. They also guard the byway between Earth and Heaven to ensure the safe passage of souls. It’s said that most of the Fallen come from the  _ Powers  _ more than any other group in the hierarchy. _
> 
> _ (2) Also from the Celestial Hierarchy, the  _ **Ophanim** _ or the  _ Thrones _ is the last member of the first Choir, the initial group of Angels closest to God. They act as his chariot, but are also known to mete out His judgement. _
> 
> _ (3) The first few words of  _ Actus contritionis _ (The Act of Contrition).  _ Latin.


	2. Ad undas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Today, I got not one but _two_ job-related pieces of good news connected to something I've been working on for the past few months, so to celebrate, I'm posting another chapter immediately. I want to share the good vibes and am passing on my good luck to you. Whatever it is you're in the middle of, are starting, or are having difficulty with, YOU CAN DO IT!**

> Falling is not easy, not for the weak, and not without purpose. When you choose to Fall, you turn your back on and forsake what you were, embracing what you have chosen to become. Ripping out your wings? It is not simply symbolism, or a ritual. It is a necessity, as much as it is a choice. What purpose have you to keep what was given only to Angels if you have decided to be their opposite, renouncing their kind and being one that’s all your own? We are Fallen, but we are not hypocrites. When we turn our backs on our brothers and forswear Him, it is in full abjurement of our Grace, which includes our wings. Are you ready to lose them wholeheartedly, a physical renouncement of everything you believed in?

  
  
  
  
  


_Jay’s scream is a ghostly wail that drives every living thing to run opposite the direction his eerie cries are coming from. Not only is it anguished and loud, it’s also terrifyingly harsh, the sound an animal who is being inflicted with mindless torture makes, torture that leads to a slow and meaningless death. It’s perhaps true in a way since Jay feels much like a bird losing the very tool he uses to live. But even this isn’t enough because feathers are only a portion of one entire thing._

_In order to Fall, Jay has to lose_ everything. 

Sifting his fingers through his blonde hair, Jay lets the smirk that has replaced his smile grace his reflection on the bathroom mirror. He’s practiced this expression countless times on fellow Devils and unsuspecting Humans until it’s second nature. This is as bad as he’s going to get, but then it’s just an impression because didn’t Sunghoon want them sinful-looking _but_ with a heart of gold?

Jay is going to be just that for Sunghoon. 

_He’s on his knees with one hand’s fingers buried deep on the damp loam that makes up the cave’s flooring, chest heaving and eyelids fluttering. Jay blinks back the tears, unsure whether he can go on, as shameful as it is to admit. He isn’t even halfway done but the pain has already left him exhausted and disoriented, and the simple effort of reaching behind his back again using a free hand? Already too much, too soon._

_“Break them off, come on. You have to break them off you.”_

Helmet, bike keys, wallet. Oh, and of course—“I’m leaving, hyung!” 

Peering through the doorway leading to the Devil’s study, Jay watches Heeseung look up at him where he’s on his favorite spot by the window, reading a book, an approving smile lighting up his face as his gaze travels downwards then back up.

“You look badass and ready in all that black leather. Are you excited?”

For a moment, the smirk disappears from his lips and Jay grins, the nodding action he does making his hair bounce with the eager action. He makes a sign that he learned on television: gun in hand that he uses to pretend-shoot Heeseung as he winks.

“As I’ll ever be!”

He does another action that he also picked up on TV: pinky and thumb out in order to mime a phone just before he disappears from the door frame to head downstairs.

“I’ll call you and give an update!”

_He looks up at the words, breaths coming out in wet gasps. The Devil he came back for, Heeseung, has taken it upon himself to oversee Jay’s progress during his Fall. This is a good thing, and his words from before ring true: no Angel can Fall on their own, he’d said, and Jay only understands why now. Drunk and delirious with pain, he’ll definitely need help seeing this through._

_Heeseung is all healed as opposed to when Jay first arrived, clothes stiff with dried blood that makes him appear menacing where he stands, looming over Jay with an unforgiving expression. There’s no warmth or sympathy in his gaze, only steel that says_ it was you who wanted this, Angel, so do it. 

_And Jay does want this,_ but it hurts.

_“You can’t keep your wings. Rip them off!”_

Choosing the perfect match had been absolute Hell (no pun intended). Once he’d decided on a style though, Jay found it easy to make a selection. It’s a classic motorcycle that Jay thinks reflects his personality: he croons at his Yamaha Bolt-C Spec lovingly, letting it know what to expect from today.

“We’ll be seeing Sunghoon today, _finally,_ and if you’re lucky, he’ll give you a ride! I hope someday he gives _me_ a ride too... but all in due time, all in due time!”

Getting his helmet on and straddling his desert bronze motorbike, Jay revvs the engine loudly just as the automated garage doors open, ride purring sweetly under him. If this isn’t bad enough for Sunghoon, Jay doesn’t know what is. He pulls away from Heeseung’s home, the Devil not even sparing him another glance as he turns a page in his book.

_The first snap and break tears another scream from Jay’s throat. The pain is so intense that his grip loosens, wing slipping from his fingers to hang and sway in an awkward angle on his back. It increases the hurt tenfold and he throws up, dizzy, scrambling to complete the act right after, fingers grasping and reaching but at nothing._

_“It’s impossible to reach,” he says, turning his hazy eyes up at Heeseung. His throat contracts, and Jay throws up again, blood and saliva dripping from his chin to the soil until he’s left retching on an empty stomach. With a gasp, a cough, he looks up again._

_“Help me.”_

Checking the time on his watch, Jay winces. Due to a couple of necessary stops he had to make, one to help an old woman cross the street and second to help break up a fight at the pedestrian that had been causing a hold up on the road, he only has thirty minutes left to spend with Sunghoon.

It’s the same waiting shed, same time, as it has always been: between 5:15 to 5:30, Sunghoon sits under the dilapidated thing with some bread from the corner bakery, the bus he takes to his neighborhood scheduled to arrive anywhere from 5:45 to 6:00 pm. He’ll be there, Jay’s certain—but Heeseung had his men check too, just to be sure. 

As Jay makes a turn that puts the blessed waiting shed in view, he takes a deep breath and slows his driving to a crawl, keeping to the side of the road with his heart beating so fast that he feels like he’s over speeding. 

This is it.

_The Devil walks around him briskly and with an impatient sigh, kneeling behind his crumpled form. Another snap with his help, another scream, and Jay’s arm tightens across his chest while Heeseung guides his hand to touch his broken wing, wrapping his fingers around it while still encouraging him mercilessly._

_“Pull, yank, whatever you have to do. Rip it off!”_

_And Jay does. He pulls and yanks and does whatever he has to do with Heeseung’s guidance, as Heeseung said, screaming and trembling the entirety of the act until he can’t scream anymore, until his back is on fire with pain,_ until it’s finished. _And once it is, only then does the Devil smile._

_He looks almost childlike as he does so._

_“Good work, brother.”_

Kicking his motorcycle’s bike stand in place as he rolls into a stop at his destination, Jay removes his helmet, blonde hair almost a pink shade under the rays of a setting sun. Smirk wide, he tucks the protective gear under an arm, leaning forward and settling the elbow of his free hand against one of the handle bars. Gloved fingers curling under his chin, he focuses his attention on the apple of his eye, his _raison d'être,_ the one who owns his heart.

_Park Sunghoon, I’m here for you to keep. As promised._

Behind the smug mask and this costume of leather (because it’s all it is), Jay feels like his chest is about to burst with how happy he is. He wants to rush over and crush Sunghoon within his arms, never let him go, tell him, _it’s ok. It’s ok. You’ll never_ _be alone again._

But not yet.

Ignoring the rest of the people in the waiting shed who has stopped what they’re doing to stare at him (even while completely aware of the group of high school girls beside his beloved who are a gaping, giggling mass of teenage hormones), he clears his throat. Sunghoon looks up from his book and directly at him, croissant halfway to his open mouth, and despite the weariness on his face and the dark circles under his eyes, to Jay, he’s still the most beautiful Human he has ever seen.

“Hey.” He winks at Sunghoon, and the teenagers all swoon. “Need a ride?”

_Body jerking and spasming uncontrollably at the still-throbbing pain, Jay attempts to lay curled up on the ground with his knees tucked close to his chest, feeling both doomed and freed in his bed of bloody feathers. Behind him, a bonfire crackles and dances, Heeseung gathering what he can of what was once part of Jay, feeding the delicate things to the flames. The smell is unpleasant, just like his future, but Jay remembers that he’s doing this for Sunghoon, and he smiles despite his drying tears and thinks otherwise._

_“It’s done,” he whispers, eyes closing. His back is raw and bleeding and is taking too long to heal, and he needs the sleep to accelerate its closing. “It’s done, Sunghoon.”_

_As he slips into repose, he catches Heeseung’s wistful sigh but not the words that follow, getting pulled under rather swiftly._

_“Another because of a Human. Of course.”_

It feels like everyone in the waiting shed has stopped breathing, waiting for Sunghoon’s reaction. Even Jay’s lungs have ceased cooperating with him but he doesn’t let it show, not even as the person in question’s face crumples into confusion, and then suspicion.

“Do I know you?”

Jay’s facade doesn’t break as he gets off his motorbike, the action putting every one of his long limbs on display. Leaning against his Yamaha’s seat after hanging his helmet, he angles his body so that he’s facing Sunghoon’s direction, shoulders shrugging. His white teeth gleams as he smiles, menace and seduction combined. 

_Bad boy,_ Jay reminds himself. Sunghoon likes them predator-like at first glance, and he hopes he’s portraying the role as realistically as possible.

“No, but you’d like to, right? Know me, I mean.”

The girls are whispering amongst themselves, giggling and falling over their feet at his display. He’s hot and Jay knows it, and the pink on Sunghoon’s cheeks clues him in, that what he’s doing and how he looks, it has some effect. But jf5 that is so, then _why—_

“Not interested, and thanks but I’ll take the bus.”

The disappointment Jay feels is echoed all around the waiting shed, from the high school students to the old lady further down the bench. Jay’s smirk lessens in intensity, but he’s experienced too much, been through too much, to give up now.

_When Jay awakens to the pouring of morning light against his face, his back is already halfway healed on the outside, though every movement still sets it aflame with hurt, making him groan in his attempt to sit up. All the blood he has spilled has dried since then, darkened to a nearly black and crusting over on his skin and the bottom half of his robes, the feeling unpleasant and scratchy. More than the pain and the discomfort however, Jay’s parched: he needs to clean up and a drink are his top two priorities._

_Now if only he can stand in order to complete such simple tasks, something he finds he can’t do for some reason._

_“Ah.” Heeseung arrives just then, smiling. “I see we’ve encountered Human problem number one.”_

Straightening, gravel crunches underfoot as Jay walks forward, stopping right in front of Sunghoon who has returned to his book. But he’s not reading, Jay can tell—his eyes aren’t moving on the page, and the tinge on his cheeks have darkened.

He squats down, leather molding against his body and emphasizing where he’s toned: arms, shoulders, _ass_ . All the women sigh and blush dreamily at the sight, and he can’t really blame them. It’s hard work, getting this type of body that Humans seem to like. They _better_ appreciate it.

Tilting his head, Jay reaches for the accursed book, pulling it out of Sunghoon’s hands and closing it carefully, the intensity back in his sneer. Sunghoon’s eyes darken in annoyance as their gazes clash, and it excites Jay that he’s getting such a reaction.

“Liar.

Jay hands the book back after saying that, sneer turning playful, but he doesn’t let go of the paperback even as Sunghoon tries to tug it out of his grip.

“But lying is my favorite sin, so I like it.”

_Jay looks up with flailing arms which are a prelude to him falling on his bottom, finding Heeseung headed his way from the cavern’s mouth. He stares up at the Devil with wide and confused eyes, a hint of fear in them at being unable to do something so mundane._

_“I can’t walk.”_

_“Yes, you’re not able to. But don’t worry. It’s not permanent. Your body just has to realize it no longer has its wings and adjust from there.”_

The teenagers are beside themselves in excitement at the development of the scene they’re watching, clutching at each other and trying to unsuccessfully stifle their ongoing giggles. Jay ignores them, but Sunghoon shoots their group a scowl before turning back to him with a glare. A solid yank gets him his book back, but only because Jay loosens his hold on it.

“Go away, I said I’m not interested. Not in guys like you.”

But even as he says it, Sunghoon’s eyes fleetingly take in what he can see of Jay’s shoulders and his chest. A low and sexy chuckle forces their eyes to meet again, and Jay notes how angry his beloved is getting. He looks amazing, heated like that, and Jay wonders if Sunghoon’s expressions will be as intense when they make love for the first time. The imagery is vivid in his head, translating in his voice as he speaks like he’s purring at Sunghoon.

“But you seem to like what you see. It’s not just my motorcycle that you can ride, you know.”

_Jay stares back blankly._

_“I... don’t understand.”_

_Heeseung chuckles._

_“As an Angel, your wings helped you with your balance. But now and without their weight on your back, your center of gravity has changed. You have to rely on whatever body parts you have left in order to stand up and walk.”_

_It’s then that Heeseung shows him something that prompts him to shift on his knees at the sight. Strangely packaged and in a see-through container he has only ever seen Humans use, but the contents are undoubtedly water._

_“You can have a drink, but you have to be the one to pluck the bottle out of my hand.”_

Jay’s head snaps to the side as Sunghoon’s fist flies, startling him. And wow does it hurt, but he’s unsure what the punch means. He barely notices the sounds of shock from their little audience, the waiting shed descending into silence.

“You’re a jerk!”

When he looks back at Sunghoon, it’s to find him really angry, no more of its quiet version earlier. This time around he’s simmering, and when he stands up, Jay does too, compelled to showcase some kind of advantage even if it’s just height. Because the more Jay pushes, the angrier Sunghoon gets, and full of rage he looks absolutely divine. Jay wants to fall on his knees and declare his undying love, if only it isn’t such an inappropriate thing to do at the moment.

“Go take your bike and shove it up your ass!”

_Swallowing painfully as he watches the Devil walk off and settle on a piece of rocky outcropping a good few feet away from where he’s still kneeling, Jay pushes himself up and manages to be on his feet for only two seconds before he falls over again—face first this time._

_Heeseung laughs as he crosses his legs, uncapping the container and taking a swig, letting droplets of water drip down his chin in a tempting display. Jay unconsciously licks his drying lips as he pants at the sight, throat begging for the liquid._

_“Try again, brother. Or else I might get tired of waiting and just finish this drink on my own.”_

_Jay growls as he pushes himself up one more time, glaring at the Devil whose smile is as teasing as it’s amused._

_“Don’t you dare!”_

_“Then come to me, brother.”_

The bus arrives before Jay can do anything else. 

Giving him a hateful look, Sunghoon stomps his way toward the public vehicle, back straight and head held high. Watching him go with a hand on his jaw, Jay’s mixed feelings are whirling inside him. He’s not quite certain which one to feel first.

“Better luck next time.”

One of the students sound sympathetic and gives him a pat on the arm as she says those words, she and her classmates ascending the bus themselves soon after, but Jay barely hears them as he caresses where he’d been hit.

Because he’s grinning.

_This is how Jay spends his first day as a wingless former Angel: with cracked lips and crusted blood on his skin, sweat running down his dirt-ridden body with the effort to re-learn the art of walking. It’s a painful, lengthy process of trial and error, and by the time he finally reaches Heeseung without falling over hours later, the Devil has left him with only a gulpful of water that he laps at desperately, half-collapsing on the rocky ground and in his brother’s arms._

_“Very good. I’ll enjoy being your mentor. Will you come with me?”_

_And because he knows he will need the help and that he doesn’t have much of a choice, Jay nods his head despite the unease in his stomach telling him he should not trust the Devil—only to be reminded that he’s become one himself. And so his answer sounds certain when he speaks it aloud, letting the fact that he’s a Devil now sink in._

_“Yes, thank you.”_

Walking back beside his bike and watching the bus drive away, he finds Sunghoon has seated himself at the very back. The dark hair is unmistakable, and so is his angry face as he twists in his seat to glance behind him, glaring through the glass as the distance between them grows. 

Jay laughs loudly when Sunghoon gives him the middle finger, taking no offense. All he does is give his beloved another wink, before blowing him a goodbye kiss.

It’s a productive day, Jay thinks, and as he said earlier, he grabs his phone from his pocket, dialling Heeseung’s number to give the Devil a progress report. He may or may not be interested, but Jay’s going to tell him about what happened anyway.

“Hello?”

“I think he likes me!”

There’s an incredulous pause on the other line before Heeseung’s amusedly asking: “Already? That was quick. So he agreed on a date?”

Jay’s pacing around the waiting shed, smiling from ear to ear as he tells the Devil of the events that took place and that _no,_ a date at this point is moving too fast so _not yet,_ to be stopped at the part about the punch with a laugh.

“Wait, you think he likes you because he hit you? I think you’re misunderstanding his social cues, Jay…”

Jay frowns, moving toward his bike and straddling it, but instead of sitting properly, he curls forward and lays a cheek against the handlebars—a badass-looking biker acting like a harmless little feline to the amusement of passersby.

“He does! So much feelings on the first meeting... can’t you see, hyung? He won’t be able to stop thinking about me!”

The Devil pauses at that, and Jay thinks he’s made his point, continuing on and getting his grin back.

“Hyung, I think I’m going to marry him.”

Too enthralled by his own feelings, Jay doesn’t notice Heeseung’s bitter chuckle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _ Chapter title  _ **_Ad undas_ ** _ meaning “To the waves,” often used to describe a failure and indicating something is going “to hell.”  _ Latin.


End file.
